Damsel In Distress

Chapter Six

"AJ?"  A voice called to me.

"Hmm," I groaned, not fully awake yet.

"AJ," the voice, which my brain finally registered as William's, tried again, "it's time to wake up."

"No it isn't," I protested.

I felt the vibrations of his laugh as he tightened his hold around me.  I didn't remember how or why I was in bed with the most beautiful man I've ever met but it didn't matter, I was happy.  But of course like all good things it only lasted for another moment or two before my brain finally played catch up.  I tried to force myself to keep my eyes closed and just enjoy the moment I was sure I'd be made to forget, but William's next statement was something even the strongest soldier couldn't ignore, "Beth made us breakfast."

My stomach growled and the thought of eating his sister's excellent cooking again.  William let me wiggle out of his arms as I opened my eyes and pushed up into a sitting position.  I looked over at him, his hair was a mess and his face was already showing signs of stubble.  I stared for a moment wanting to remember him like this forever when again I remembered there was a big possibility that wouldn't be possible.  I sighed, "do I get to keep my memories until after we eat?"

He gave me a playful smirk but I could feel a sense of seriousness as he joked back with me, "I guess there's no harm in waiting a little longer."

I watched William as he pushed himself off the bed, he stretched his arms above his head as he stood, causing his shirt to lift slightly.  There was a small tattoo on his lower abdomen, it looked faded, like he had gotten it years ago. The design itself was simple, a fully shaded half circle with jagged lines, almost like the other half was ripped away from it.  Curiously I asked, "you have a tattoo?"

His hand reached down and pulled up his shirt revealing the tattoo to me again, "sort of," he said, "it's called a mark," he dropped his shirt and offered me his hand, "come on, let's go eat."

"what do you mean by a mark?"  I asked while taking his hand.

He helped me off the bed then started to drag me out of the room, "it has to do with what I am," he explained vaguely. 

"What exactly are you?  I mean besides, apparently, not human," I asked nervously.

"Depends on who you ask," he stated casually as we made our way to the dining room, "every culture has a different name for what we are, each with their own specific set of characteristics."

He dropped my hand and pulled out my chair for me, similar to how he did last night, causing a wave of deja-vu to wash over me.  I thanked him and waited until he was seated across from me, so I could see his face while I asked the question that would hopefully give me my final answer, "and what does my culture call people like you?"

His face was relaxed, there wasn't even the slightest bit of hesitation showing before he finally answered me, "vampire."

I tried to keep my face emotionless as my head exploded with a million questions.  Deep down I felt my instincts telling me to run for the hills screaming but I refrained.  Instead I tried to distract myself with my previous curiosity, "so how does the mark play into being a," I paused feeling awkward saying the phrase casually, "a vampire?"

"After being turned you enter what's called the transition," he shifted slightly in his seat so he was sitting up straighter, "if you complete the transition, you become a vampire.  If you don't, you die.  After the transition is complete, a mark will appear.  It's sort of like when you get too much sun and a new freckle pops up."

"What does the mark mean?"

"That we're not completely sure of," he shrugged, "there's some theories but none that ever actually pan out."